I am re-reading a book by Jamie Langston Turner. She is a Southern writer and a Christian who has written many good books. The one I am reading now is Winter Birds. I was reading it as I fell asleep this afternoon. I needed that nap but I dreamed while I was sleeping and I know I dreamed about my Grandmother and where she lived in Poplar Bluff, Mo. Her name was Willie.
When I woke up I was thinking of her and something she used to say. She would use the word carry instead of brought or take. She would say, "George carried me over to the store today." Or "Cousin Eleanor carried me to Tennessee so I could visit a few days." She used the word cream for Ice Cream, and when she said help it sounded more like hope. She had the cutest laugh, it was a high pitched and quick Hee Hee sound. I loved her a lot.
One time when we were living with her she told my mother "The All Seeing Eye is watching those girls." She said that because she disapproved of how short our skirts were. She probably prayed for me her whole life.
I never heard her say one bad word about others or speak down of any race. She only spoke of race once to me and that was to tell me of a helpful and respectful young man (who happened to be) "...a Colored boy...", her words but they were not spoken with distaste or hate. I could tell she thought very well of this young man.
She was always old, always had grey hair. She never drove a car and never wore pants, always dresses that she made and she carried a pocket-book not a purse. The gift she loved from me was a purse with a ton of pockets in it so she could separate everything she put in the purse, huh excuse me, pocketbook. The only time I saw her with pants was to pick wild blackberries. She wore the pants under her dress. I miss her sometimes and I loved her. I sure hope I get to see her again. I think I will.
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